


We'll Be Just Fine

by hopefuldark



Category: The Walking Dead (TV)
Genre: Adoption, Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Canon Lesbian Relationship, F/F, F/M, I want it that way, Maggie's a top, Power Rangers - Freeform, Questioning, Rosita doesn't actually like guys she's just confused, Zombie Apocalypse, the Backstreet Boys - Freeform
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-04-19
Updated: 2020-05-22
Packaged: 2021-03-02 04:55:33
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 9
Words: 19,644
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23729395
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/hopefuldark/pseuds/hopefuldark
Summary: After a failed attempt at saving the world from the dead, Maggie, Glenn, Rosita and Tara find that things are beginning to change, and everything they thought they knew before is crumbling beneath their feet. While Maggie and Glenn question if their choice not to have a baby was the right one, Rosita questions her sexuality and feelings for Abraham. And Tara? Tara's just a gay mess.
Relationships: Maggie Greene/Glenn Rhee, Tara Chambler/Rosita Espinosa
Comments: 5
Kudos: 20





	1. Harry Potter and the Curse of the Church Bus Crash

Well this fucking sucked. Riding in a church bus in the Carolina heat with an army general that resembled a large, ginger dog and an annoying scientist with a mullet is not exactly how Maggie thought that she would be spending her life three years ago. Not that she thought that the dead were going to come back either, but if that were to happen, this was the bottom of her list on possible outcomes. She had long ago learned to block out the smell of people (and herself), but it still wasn’t exactly pleasant.  
As much as she loved her husband, being crammed next to him in a bus without air conditioning wasn’t exactly the most ideal way to be spending her time. She placed her head in her lap and let out a frustrated laugh. Thinking of all the things that led her to right there, sitting in a church bus at the end of the world, made her head spin. So she tried not to, because that didn’t matter. She was there, and so was Glenn. And she was going to try her damned hardest to keep it that way. 

Unlike Maggie, Tara wasn’t particularly surprised by the situation she had gotten herself into. Whether it was riding in a church bus with five sweaty people and trying to save the world or eating mushrooms at a campsite at three in the morning after riding in a shopping cart down a hill, it wasn’t out of the ordinary for her to be in unexplainable situations. What was out of the ordinary was how damn fast she fell for Rosita. It took talking to Eugene, who frankly, she didn’t understand in the first place, to keep her from staring. The one thing she did understand about Eugene? The fact that he was constantly staring at Rosita’s ass. Good god.  
All it took was one slip up, one glance at the seat in front of her, and the bus was on its side. Maybe it was a coincidence, maybe it was whoever was up there telling her to get ahold of herself, but whatever the reason, Eugene still ended up on top of her, and she could swear he “accidentally” touched her ass. Saying she wanted to vomit was an understatement, and somehow, she knew it wasn’t from the bus turning entirely upside down for a moment. 

Rosita crawled up and turned around just to see that stupid fucking scientist gripping onto Tara like a frightened toddler. He was so disgusting, and if they didn’t need that cure she would have smacked him in the face. Holding her hand out to Tara, she pulled the both of them out. She didn’t intentionally ignore Eugene but well… she wasn’t exactly eager to come to his aid. Maggie and Glenn were already out and gripping each other like they survived a battle. Meanwhile, Abraham was staring at the flipped bus like a child who lost his favorite toy.  
Rolling her eyes, she urged everyone to move. They had better get away before the engine explodes. Tara, Maggie and Glenn were quick to move, but Eugene wouldn’t budge, and she could have sworn that Abraham was genuinely about to cry. “Abraham, we’ll find something else, we always have,” she said with a sigh. She wanted to say a lot more, namingly involving the words “Get the fuck up,” but he started moving. A fight was more trouble than it was worth with him. So they started walking. 

~+~+go go power rangers+~+~

After what felt like days of walking (even if it was only a mere few hours), the group found a bookstore to camp out in for the night. After moving some of the shelves for some sort of extra protection and laughing at Abraham’s failed attempt to get Rosita to have sex with him, Glenn found some blankets and set up a makeshift bed for him and Maggie to share. Tara had stolen a few simply because they were Harry Potter printed and proceeded to rant about how she never got the chance to finish the last two movies, so that at least kept him entertained for a while. Maggie was just baffled that they still remembered and cared.  
After Tara wandered off, however, all he could do was stare at the ceiling. Despite feeling entirely drained of any energy, it just didn’t feel right being away from the group that he called his family, so sleep refused to come to him. It was about fifteen minutes before Maggie lifted her head. At least he wasn’t the only one who wasn’t able to sleep.  
“What’s up?” she whispered as she pushed his hair out of his face. Glenn rolled onto his side and propped himself up on his elbow.  
“Nothing. Just can’t sleep.” It wasn’t the entire truth--he missed Carol, Hershel, Daryl, and really just all of them, which really kind of sucked--but that was certainly part of it. “You?”  
She sighed. “I don’t know, I just… I’m starting to feel like this whole mission is just pointless. What if there is no cure and we’re out here for nothing?”  
For a moment, Glenn didn’t say anything. To tell the truth, he didn’t know what to say. He agreed, but that little bit of hope that whatever that mission was for could possibly work was just about the only thing keeping him from going insane. If it turned out to be a waste of time and he and Maggie had left for nothing, he wasn’t entirely sure if he could ever forgive Eugene, Rosita and Abraham for dragging the two of them (three, counting Tara) along. “Me too,” was all he ended up saying.  
“I miss Beth. I’m sitting out here, not knowing if she’s okay, and I just got her back. And for what? I mean seriously, how does Eugene really know about this cure anyway? Why doesn’t anyone else? Why hasn’t somebody used it already?”  
“I don’t know,” he murmured. “I guess there’s a chance that he knows, but judging by the way he refuses to tell us, it’s starting to seem like he’s hiding something.”  
Maggie fell back onto her “pillow” (which was just another blanket rolled up; apparently this bookstore didn’t sell themed pillows as well) and smiled to herself. “My dad really was an asshole to you when we first met, wasn’t he?” She tried to cover up her laugh with her hand but failed.  
The change in subject was sudden, and frankly, Glenn didn’t understand where it came from, but nonetheless, he still managed a smile. “Not… particularly.” That was another lie. “He was just… protective.”  
“Come on, he called you ‘Asian boy’ for a month.”  
“That was just a fun little game we played.” Now it was Glenn’s turn to hide his laughter, but he also failed.  
“Uh-huh.” Maggie was almost crying now, laughter coming out in little squeals.  
“Uh-huh” he echoed, nodding with dramatic sincerity. “I called him ‘white guy’ sometimes. Or 'farmer dan'.”  
“Truely a comedian, my father.” Maggie did her best imitation of Hershel's voice. “I--” She cut herself off with a fit of laughter before deepening her voice again. “I don’t know what I was going to say anymore but um… what did my dad say? God! Proud Irish immigrants!” She leaned into Glenn and giggled until she ran out of breath.  
Glenn’s face began to turn red from how long he had been holding in his laughter, and he had to hide his face in her shoulder to keep himself from waking the others up. Or at least, Eugene and Abraham, both of whom he was pretty sure were asleep. Rosita and Tara, on the other hand, were on the other side of the shelves, and he could hear their little murmurs of conversation.  
“God, I miss him,” Maggie whispered into Glenn’s chest.  
“I know. I do, too.”  
“When Beth and I would fight as kids, or get into trouble, he would always punish me more strictly than her. I would get angry about it and take it out on Beth, and so the cycle continued.” She softly chuckled. “When I demanded why, he told me that I was more responsible because it was my job to protect her as I was the older sister. Of course at the time, I thought that was stupid, ‘I didn’t choose her’ and whatnot. But now… now she’s all I have left.”  
He paused for a moment, lifting his head off of her shoulder in order to meet her eyes. “You have me” he said softly, giving her a sad smile. “And… maybe if Eugene really does know how to fix this, we can have a baby. Then you’ll have them, too.”  
“And what if he doesn’t?” Maggie challenged.  
He paused again before coming to a decision.“Like you said, we can handle it. It’s not ideal but… it’s possible. Look at Rick.”  
Maggie grinned.. “Really? Are you sure?”  
“I’m sure,” he whispered.  
“Okay,” she whispered into his ear, but Glenn could hear her smile. “We’re going to have a baby.” She laughed and pushed her hair out of her face. “Just maybe not right now because we’re disgustingly dirty and Rosita and Tara are sitting about thirty feet away.”  
“Yeah, no, I wanted to try right this minute” he joked, rolling his eyes even if she couldn’t see. “Maybe we’ll find a shower or something in DC. It’s… been a while.”  
Maggie nodded in agreement and kissed him on the cheek. “I love you, Asian boy.”  
“I love you, too, farmer’s daughter.”

~+~+i play pokemon go everyday~+~

As Tara walked away from her Harry Potter conversation with Glenn, she spotted Rosita curled up on the windowsill. It was one of the few times she’d seen her without Abraham on that entire trip, and about the only time the two of them were completely alone. If it wasn’t Abraham, it was Eugene, and if it wasn’t Eugene, it was Glenn, and only one of those names belonged to someone she ever wanted to deal with. So, seeing it as her one chance to actually talk to her, she made her way over, giving her a smile and holding up the blankets she had in her hands. “We found blankets. You want one?” Rosita was just about the only person Tara'd sacrifice her Harry Potter blankets for.  
“Sure, thanks.” Rosita shrugged and grabbed one, avoiding Tara’s gaze.  
Tara sure as hell didn’t have the best people skills--hell, she threatened just about anyone she met--but even she could see that something was off. Rosita even looked a little different to her. Sadder. “Hey, are you okay?” she asked, hoping it wasn’t seen as a stupid question. Of course she wasn’t, but she had to ask, right?  
“Yeah, I’m…” Rosita took a deep breath and looked up at Tara, almost sizing her up. “You know what, actually? I’m not. Abraham is a whiny jerk and Eugene is incapable of everything and…” she stopped herself and put a hand over her mouth. “Oh my god, I’m so sorry. I should not be saying any of this to you.”  
Tara took the seat across from Rosita, considering taking one of her hands, but ultimately deciding against it. “You can trust me. And I mean… you’re not wrong. No offense, I know Abraham’s your boyfriend but… if you’re not happy, why do you stay with him?”  
“I don’t hate him.” Rosita almost seemed like she was convincing herself. “I don’t, he’s really trying to do the right thing. He just frustrates me. It’s like all he cares about is this stupid mission, and sure that’s what I care about too but… sometimes I think that everything else is on autopilot.”  
“Just because he’s trying to do the right thing doesn’t mean you have to stay with him, you know” Tara mumbled, hoping it didn’t sound as though she was saying it for her own benefit. It wasn’t like that, but she definitely wouldn’t have minded if they broke up. “You can still help do the right thing and… not be with him.”  
Rosita looked at her doubtfully. “Look, I love the enthusiastic support, but I don’t need to break up with him right this instant. I just need... a break. I need to breathe.”  
Even if it probably wasn’t the most appropriate thing in the world, Tara giggled. “Then tell him you want to go on a break. Haven’t you ever seen Friends?”  
“No,” Rosita looked confused.  
“Oh,” she said, disappointed. And to think this girl was supposed to be her soulmate or something. “It was a whole thing with Ross and Rachel. You probably wouldn’t understand.”  
Rosita laughed. “Well maybe someday you can explain it to me.”  
“Someday” Tara whispered, looking down at her lap and smiling to herself. Realizing she probably looked stupid, she decided to change the subject. “So… how’d you and Abraham get together, anyway?”  
Rosita sighed and leaned her head against the wall. “Well, a few months after this whole shitstorm began, Abraham and Eugene showed up and started talking to my group about some cure that they were going to find in D.C. We had been moving back and forth between empty house and store in Housten since the beginning, so we were pretty desperate for any semblance of hope. We joined in. And I don’t know, he seemed to think I was pretty, and it was just… easy.  
“At first I guess I was just doing it because I had nothing else. I wanted something good. Slowly we lost people and now-- well I’m still here I guess. Except now it’s not as easy.” Rosita laid her head on Tara’s shoulder. “I feel like I’ve been sleepwalking for a year and a half.”  
With some hesitation, Tara placed a hand on Rosita’s back, too afraid to wrap her arm all the way around her waist. “Can I ask you something?”  
Rosita nodded.  
“Do you really even like him?”  
“Honestly?” Rosita looked up into Tara’s eyes. “I’m not sure anymore.”  
Tara felt wrong for hoping that she’d say she didn’t. She felt guilty. But even if she didn’t, it was still clear that Rosita didn’t want to be with Abraham. No, maybe she wasn’t into girls. Hell, maybe she’d even end up dating Eugene or something (even if Tara knew that wouldn’t happen and was really just disgusted by the idea), but no one deserved to be in a one-sided relationship.  
Tara fully met her eyes. “If you have to think about it… you probably don’t, Rosita.”  
Rosita sighed. “No more thinking for tonight.” She looked down for a moment before collecting herself into a smile. “Now why don’t you tell me about your favorite tv show or whatever.”


	2. (Gay) Panic

The bright sun that seeped through the papers and cardboard covering the window was the first thing to pry Tara’s eyes open. Too early. It’s greeting was too soon, and the lids of her eyes refused to part for more than a moment before forcing themselves back together like magnets.  
The dead silence that filled the room was eerie enough to keep her from resting again, however, although that was nothing compared to the sheer anxiety that filled her upon the realization that Rosita had fallen asleep cuddled up to her. The beautiful girl’s head rested against her chest, her arm draped over Tara’s stomach as if to hold her there, refusing to let go even in her ever so peaceful state. Tara’s arm had been around her shoulders, as well.   
The events of the night before were a blur despite the fact that she hadn’t had anything to drink in a long time. Or at least, they were a blur, until she remembered waking up in a cold sweat once before. Visions of Lilly and Meghan had crept into her peaceful dream. Clouded hazel eyes, torn flesh, pale skin, and a ring of crimson blood around each of their mouths. What were once the beautiful blonde curls of her niece were then matted with dirt and blood.   
The images were enough to wake Tara in an instant, but the heavy breathing and thrashing that occurred as she slept was apparently enough to startle Rosita, as well, because she was already there with open arms, engulfing a trembling Tara without the poor girl even having to ask. She’d been there to comfort her as long as she was up, and then was able to coax her back down before covering the both of them in Harry Potter printed blankets and cuddling up to her as if it wasn’t out of the ordinary.   
But apparently, there she remained, because Tara was well awake, and Rosita hadn’t moved. Even if she’d nearly squealed with the excitement of Rosita’s undivided attention the night before, she was terrified of Abraham seeing the both of them and taking his anger out on Rosita. It only felt like a matter of time before he snapped on her. Typically, he was about as gentle as a lion with a zebra no matter if he was upset or not. She was just about, as Abraham would say, shaking in her boots imagining him truly furious.   
But god, no matter how hard she thought, she just wasn’t able to pull herself together enough to shake Rosita awake. She just looked so peaceful, angelic even. She was in a world that was far away from walkers and governors and jails and abandoned little ghost towns. Waking her up would mean bringing her back to the hell that they lived in, and Tara wasn’t sure she could ever do that to someone as perfect and amazing as Rosita. But she had to.   
So, with a small sigh, she whispered the girl’s name. When no reaction came, she said it a little louder, but when that also came to no avail, she reverted to lightly shaking her until she saw the scrunch of her nose and the curl of her body towards Tara’s. Finally. 

Rosita squinted and groaned at the warm light in her face. “Ugh. Morning.” She stretched and got up, finally feeling the soreness of the day before. The little break she had had from walking before yesterday must have really taken a toll on her. She looked at Tara quizzically. “How long have you been awake?”   
Tara avoided her eyes, instead staring off at one of the shelves behind Rosita. The embarrassment and guilt that she was feeling was clear on her face. “Only like… five minutes, I think.”  
Rosita seriously doubted that, but let it go. Arguing with and accusing her wouldn't have been to any use. She grabbed the blankets and decided to shove a thin one in her bag. When someone’s bag broke, it would be much easier to use it than to carry everything. Everyone else was packing up too; Abraham was already done and sitting, staring out the window. Rosita sighed, and with a final glance at Tara, headed towards him.   
“Hey?” she nudged him with the toe of her boot. “What’s up?” He didn’t respond, just continued staring. She let out an exasperated sigh and kneeled to join him. They did not have time for this. “Abraham. What. Is. Wrong?”   
“Why didn’t you come to bed last night?” Abraham looked up at her with a pathetic expression.   
“That’s seriously what this is about?” Rosita rolled her eyes and turned to walk away. “I just wasn’t in the mood, okay? I needed some time alone to think.”   
Abraham stood up. “What were you thinking about?” Rosita continued walking, habitually folding blankets and putting fallen books back although there was no need to.   
“Nothing. I wasn’t thinking about anything.”   
“I saw you with Tara.” Rosita paused and faced him again at that, her arms crossed. He continued, “Be careful around her. I don’t think her motives are as hunky-dory as they seem. Just…” he ran his fingers through his hair. “I would just feel a lot better if you stayed away from her.”   
“Stay away from her?” Rosita repeated. She could barely choke the words out, they came in something almost akin to a laugh. .   
“Yes, it would make me feel a lot better.” Abraham closed the gap between them and tried to grab Rosita’s face, but she flinched away. “Rosita?”  
She ducked out of his grasp and strode towards the door, shaking her head. “We should go, we’ve already slept in too late.”   
After walking out, Rosita sunk against the wall of the building and placed her head in her hands. Last night, curled up against Tara as she told her about Friends, was one of the only moments she could remember being happy in a long time. Not relieved, not grateful that she had just survived another day, but truly happy. Even if Tara didn’t have the best of intentions, even if it cost her Abraham, she wasn’t about to let go of that. So she got up, grabbed her bag, and took a deep breath.   
When the rest of the group made their way outside and started walking, she didn’t move to the front in her usual spot with Abraham. She let herself fall to the back, and let Tara fill her mind with stupid babble about the books and movies and shows that they would likely never again get to enjoy. And as the sun made its way overhead and they began again towards whatever D.C. would bring, Rosita felt herself smile. 

Maggie knew that it was probably a lot hotter in Georgia than it was here, but that didn’t make it feel any cooler. They trudged along the endless highway for hours, the sun rising higher and higher in the sky. With each step she felt her heart drop in her chest. Each step was taking her farther away from Rick’s group. Her group. Her family.   
Next to Maggie, Glenn came to a stop, and when the others noticed, they did the same. “Wait.” He pointed into the trees, although just barely raising his arm. “There are a few cars over there, maybe we can get one of those started?”  
Maggie shrugged. They had found a few earlier to no avail, but there were half a dozen vehicles parked a few feet into the treeline. One of them had to work. They made their way, Maggie smiling to herself at the hope set on Glenn’s face. She didn’t know how he did it; how he could keep trusting that things would be all right after everything they’d been through.   
The second vehicle they tried, a huge chevy truck, worked. Abraham whooped and Rosita began laughing. Even Maggie allowed herself a small grin at her husband. Abraham studied the truck, overly cautious after the bus incident. “Everything looks good. Almost a full tank of gas, oil looks fine, breaks work. With this we should be able to get within a hundred miles of D.C. tomorrow.” Everyone smiled and laughed; Tara went around giving fist bumps to everyone, but Eugene was strangely quiet.   
“No,” he whispered.   
“What did you just say?” Abraham seemed like he almost didn’t want to say the words. Like he knew what was happening-- like part of him knew it all along.   
“I said no. We’re not going to get to D.C. within the next few days.”   
Everyone was silent. They all knew what was coming. They all knew, but they couldn’t admit it to themselves, it couldn’t be true. So they stayed silent.   
“I’m not a scientist. I’m not a scientist and I don't know the cure.”   
“That’s not true,” Rosita whispered. “No that’s not true you’re a-- you’re a scientist.” She raised her eyes to Eugene before growling, “You made us come here. You made us come all the way from Housten for a cure that doesn’t exist?”   
And in that moment Abraham, who had been staring straight ahead, jumped forward and hurtled straight toward Eugene. The entire group rushed and grabbed at him to stop him, and as they almost got a hold of him, he grabbed hold of Tara and shoved her down. At that moment, everything seemed to happen in slow motion.   
Maggie watched as Glenn’s eyes turned from concern to fury, and he put all his strength into stopping Abraham. He was soon shoved out of the way as Abraham attacked Eugene. One. Two. Three blows to the head. The crack of Eugene’s broken nose. And when they were finally able to pull Abraham away, the slam of Eugene’s body against the pavement.   
Abraham charged back like a mad bull ready to finish the job, and was ready to push Rosita out of his way. But when he approached her, he found not a minor inconvenience but his girlfriend, standing in front of the man who had lied to them for the better part of a year, pointing a gun at Abraham’s chest.   
“Go.” Her voice cracked, but her eyes were steady and sure. If he made one more move in the direction of Eugene, she was going to shoot him in the heart.   
Abrahams eyes flashed in realization of what he had done, and he backed away. Maggie turned to make sure that Tara and Glenn were alright, and when she met Tara’s eyes, she was sure the expression in them was going to haunt her. 

Tara could probably swear that she hadn’t been more afraid since the apocalypse had started. In that moment, she was sure Abraham was going to kill each and every one of them, or at the very least, Eugene. As upset with him as she was, no one deserved to die like that.   
He seemed like he was willing to destroy anything in his path, which was proved to be true when he threw her to the pavement, and when Rosita stood in front of him, Tara thought she was about to watch her die. A cop-in-training witnessing a murder and cowering in fear. That was one for the books.   
But then, Rosita pulled her gun on him, and although she was still convinced someone was going to die, she no longer believed that person was Rosita. Even if she’d never admit it out loud, that definitely made her feel a lot better.   
Everyone was at a stand-still. Glenn, Maggie, Rosita, Abraham. Eugene was unconscious on the ground, but she was sure he’d either be frozen or sobbing if he was awake. Although, that was really no different to any other time, so he didn’t exactly count to begin with.   
Luckily, before Rosita had to do anything, Abraham backed away with his hands up, facing her at first, then turning around and walking a few paces ahead. He fell to his knees, staring off somewhere in the distance, and it was only then that Tara felt safe enough to move.   
“Are you okay?” she asked, moving away from Glenn to stand next to Rosita. Even if her words echoed those that she had spoken the night before, they seemed to hold a different meaning.   
“Yeah.” Rosita shook her head, putting her gun back in her holster when she realized that it was still in her hand. She brushed Tara’s hair out of her face to reveal a thin scratch. “Are you?”   
In all honesty, Tara hadn’t even realized the scratch was there. She had been too focused on the chaos to even register what had happened. “I’m good. I’ve had worse.”  
“Okay,” Rosita said, gripping her shoulder, but she didn’t sound too sure. She turned her focus to Eugene, who was being tended to by Maggie and Glenn. “How is he? Do you think he’ll be okay?”  
“We can’t be sure until he wakes up,” Maggie replied as she shielded the sun from her eyes as she looked up. “He must have a concussion at least, but like I said, we can’t know. His pulse is stable though, and the only thing broken is his nose.”   
Rosita nodded in response and crossed her arms with a glance at Abraham. “Should I go talk to him?”   
Tara followed Rosita’s gaze over to Abraham, a look of worry crossing over her features for a moment. “Just… be careful.”  
Rosita nodded and slowly padded over to where her boyfriend kneeled on the road. 

Rosita planned out every swear word she was going to throw at him, but that all changed when she saw his face looking up at her. It was full of guilt and sorrow and regret, and she knew that he was punishing himself for what he had done way more than she could punish him. She knelt in front of him. “Abraham…”  
“I am so, so sorry.” He tried to grab her arm, and when she jerked it away he began apologizing profusely. “I can’t believe I did that, I could have killed him; I could have killed you; I am so sorry.” He went on like this for a while, saying how he loved her and how he never meant to act like that. How he would never do it again. She stayed silent until he mumbled, “You should have killed me.”  
“You’re right, I should have.” She attempted to give him a look with blades in her eyes, and given his sudden silence it seemed to work. “I should have, but I didn’t. Because I still believe that there is good in you. I still believe that there is something fueling you besides that mission. I don’t care what the hell that thing is but find something god dammit, and get the hell up.”   
She stood and stared down at him, waiting for him to do something, and when he finally did stand all he did was stare at her. She stared back. If he wanted to get out of this, it was not going to be through her giving in and telling him ‘oh it’s okay, everything’s okay.’  
Finally he whispered, “What?”  
“What, what?”   
“What am I supposed to care about besides this mission?”  
“People,” she said incredulously. “You care about people.”   
She walked away, trying not to let out the tears that so desperately wanted to fall. “Will you forgive me?” She could feel Abraham’s eyes piercing the back of her skull and she wanted to run, to not have to face what she was about to say. Because she wanted to forgive him so bad. For things to go back to normal, and to get this deepening pit of guilt out of her chest. For Abraham --this one simple thing in her life-- to be easy again. But easy wasn’t the right thing. Easy got you killed, easy made sure you only went through the motions of your life and never lived it. So, with her back turned against Abraham and looking into Tara’s eyes, Rosita said one word.   
“No.”


	3. Babies and Breakdowns

Frankly, no one had any idea of what to do now that the plans for D.C. were entirely useless. For all they knew, Rick’s group had already started out like they had promised, and when they returned to the church, nothing would be there. But Glenn had hope, and he was almost entirely sure that they would stay put, or at least in the area, for a good amount of time before leaving for D.C.   
“Even if they did leave they probably went the same route we did. We’ll meet them on our way back.” Maggie squeezed Glenn’s hand in reassurance that she probably needed herself.   
“But what if they didn’t?” Tara questioned, her hands positioned on her hips. “And even if they did, who’s to say there won’t be a bunch of walkers or something? Our best bet is to just go and meet them when they get there.”  
“What’s the point of even going to D.C. anymore?” Rosita stood from her place crouched on the ground. “Seriously though, all we’re going to find there are more walkers. Our best bet is to just try to find somewhere to make a camp around here. You can go miles without one in your way.”   
Glenn had no idea what they’d find on the way back, but all he knew was finding Rick’s group was really the only thing he was willing to do. He didn’t want to be out here to begin with; if anything, Rosita was one of the reasons he was stuck with them in the first place. If she’d just said something to Abraham and convinced him to stay without him and Maggie having to tag along, the two of them would be back with the others.  
“We’re going back.” Glenn looked between Rosita and Tara, then turned to Maggie and nodded. She met his eyes and returned the gesture as a confirmation. .   
“Well, what are we waiting for?” She gestured at Abraham, Tara, and Eugene to get up. “We have a working truck and are running out of time. Let’s go.”  
Abraham stared at Maggie and Glenn as if they had just kicked his dog. “Who put y’all in charge? We’re going to D.C.”   
Maggie opened the driver’s side door and swung into the vehicle. “I’m pretty sure you forfeited the role of leader when you attempted to murder one of us. Now get the hell in before I leave you.”   
Glenn entered the passenger’s side before Abraham got the chance to, and, after enlisting Abraham’s help to lift Eugene into the truck bed, Tara and Rosita sat back there as well. That left the back row for the army general and all of their things.   
“Ready?” Glenn asked, as if none of the arguing had even occurred. In response, Maggie turned the key in the ignition and the engine roared to life. He pulled his seatbelt across his chest. “Guess that’s a yes.”  
Maggie turned and laughed at him. “Are you seriously wearing a seatbelt?”   
Glenn scoffed. “We just got into a bus crash and you’re criticizing me for wearing it?”  
She rolled her eyes and hit the accelerator. 

Rosita shifted her weight and gripped the side of the truck as it lurched forward. Maggie wasn’t the worst driver but… she tended to forget when there were people in the back. She and Tara were on watch duty for both walkers and Eugene, and while Rosita would typically be irritated by the position, the time away from Abraham felt like a godsend.   
She absentmindedly placed her hand on Eugene’s forehead. “He’s burning up,” she tapped Tara on the shoulder. “Grab that blanket and put it over him. He has a fever and the sun’s only going to make it worse.”   
“Won’t that just make him hotter?” Tara asked, the panic rising in her voice.   
“It’s better than him being in the direct sun; at least it’ll be shade.” Rosita wasn’t so sure he was going to survive at all; he’d been unconscious for a while, but she wasn’t going to say that out loud.   
With an uncertain nod, Tara placed the blanket over Eugene, covering his entire body. “What do we do if it doesn’t work?”  
“We…” Rosita wiped her face with her arm and threw her head back towards the sky. What the hell were they going to do? And if Eugene died-- if he died Rosita didn’t think she’d be able to even look at Abraham after this. “I don’t know. I’m not a doctor.”   
“This is a stupid question but… do you think the truck has air conditioning? Maybe we can get Maggie.”  
“I doubt it, but we can check. If anything it will be more shade than this.” Rosita began banging her hand against the rear window. “Hey!” She waved at Maggie when she turned to look and made the motion for ‘stop.’   
As she had anticipated, the truck did not have air conditioning, but they decided to move Eugene to the back seat with Abraham with the trade off of a few bags of guns and the like. Abraham didn’t look too happy about it, but didn’t say anything. Good. He needed to know what he caused.   
So now it was just Tara and Rosita alone again, which was starting to become a common occurrence. Not that she minded, the girl was wildly entertaining. When she was with her, some part of Rosita felt at ease. Like she was finally somewhere safe again.   
“So…” Tara started, gazing at Rosita from across the truck bed. She looked as though she wanted to say more, but that was all.  
“Yes?” Rosita tried not to snap, but this was not her best day. So it ended up coming out as a half growl, which may have been worse.   
It was pretty obvious that Tara was doing her best (which was not at all good) to hide the slightly hurt expression that fell onto her face. “Nothing, sorry… Just trying to make conversation.”  
Well now Rosita felt like a bitch. “No, no, it’s fine.”   
Great, that wasn’t going to help, it only made her seem more angry. “Shit, no, I mean, this is just not a good day. I’m sorry, what were you going to say?” The sincerity Rosita attempted to inject into her last sentence may have made her sound like she was going crazy, but hey. At least she tried.   
“Yeah, I know, it sucks” Tara laughed softly, picking up one of the dead leaves that were scattered around and crushing it between her fingers. “I really didn’t have anything in mind. I guess I just don’t wanna think about Eugene right now.”  
“I get it.” Rosita gave a sympathetic smile. “You know the best way to clear your mind?” She inclined her head towards the walkers that were following the truck.   
Tara grinned, meeting Rosita’s eyes once more in a silent understanding. She pulled her gun from her holster, ensured that it was loaded, and began firing at whatever was close enough to hit.   
Rosita took a slightly different approach to it. She aimed at the walkers that were in the most difficult spots; in the woods or behind several others. That precision allowed her to completely clear her thoughts of anything else but her targets. There was no Abraham, no Eugene. Just she, her pistol, and the dead.   
When they had picked off as many as they deemed justified the amount of ammo they were wasting, they sunk back down into the truck-bed, Rosita letting out a sigh of relief.   
“Well that was fun.” Tara pushed her gun back into her holster before laying back. “But I’m surprised Abraham isn’t losing his shit over us wasting ammo.”  
Rosita laughed. “I’m sure he is. I think he’s just smart enough to know that now is not the time to yell at us about it. We’ll be able to get more soon anyways. I remember seeing a few old hillbilly homes on the way here; one of those has to have some.” She tapped the other girl’s shoe with her foot. “Thanks for that, though.”   
“For what?” Tara asked. She wasn’t exactly the brightest crayon in the box.   
“For getting up and shooting with me, even though it was stupid, and senseless, and all those other words that mean we shouldn’t have done it.” The way the light hit Tara’s hair gave it little bronze streaks, and her eyes became the shade of honey. Rosita had never noticed that before. She quickly averted her gaze. “The trees are starting to die. It has to be what, late July, early August by now, right?”  
Tara glanced up at the leaves above them. “I think it’s August. Meghan would’ve been eight.”  
“Tell me about her.” Rosita paused when she realized how intrusive that was. “I mean, only if you want to. I don’t know, sorry.”   
“Oh, uh…” Tara was obviously a little taken aback, but she still spoke. “She was my niece. My sister, Lily’s daughter.”  
Rosita nodded. “I had a little cousin named Meghan. ‘Had,’” she scoffed. “How many times are we going to have to use that word?”   
“Too many.”

It’s so strange, which habits you keep despite no real reason to keep them. Glenn still put his seatbelt on, and Maggie still drove on the right side of the road. Maggie had been so sure that she wanted kids, despite this broken, dangerous world, but was that selfish? Was it right to bring something to life just so it could live a brief, miserable existence and die? And for what, those little moments of happiness or relief? Those moments came fewer and fewer these days, and always overshadowed by tragedy.  
It didn’t matter that it was selfish, she had decided at the prison. Because living, having kids, creating a future, that’s what made them human. The same as finding love, getting married, and still driving on the right side of the road. But that was when there was a prison, a fortress of protection. Even her conversation with Glenn last night had been cloaked in the hope of a cure. Now that was gone, and as much as she told herself they were not, so could be her group. It was getting harder to convince herself that it was still the right decision.   
She glanced at the useless radio and smiled, her sister’s sweet voice singing in her head. They would play a game sometimes, where Maggie would name any song she could think of and Beth would sing it on command. So many times she had thought she had found something that Beth couldn’t possibly know, but the girl still recited every lyric. And Maggie was sure that she could still do it, even now. Music was the last thing to remain on Maggie’s mind through all this, but Beth seemed to live through song.   
It hurt every time Maggie watched that sweet, innocent sister kill a walker. The first time Beth had to put down a child, no older than the age of 4, her face was stoney and expressionless. Maggie wanted to run to her and hold her, to protect her. But she didn’t because she couldn’t. In this world, you needed to be strong, you needed to be able to kill without sympathy. Little songbirds are crushed.   
Judith and a future child of Glenn and Maggie’s would never have those precious years of innocence that the rest of them, even Carl, had gotten. They would have to grow without mercy, without rules saying to not kill, in a world where trust and honesty would be condemned and nothing but death was certain. In a world like this, could they become good people? Or would they be savage, brutal creatures running purely on instinct?   
That was what they all had become, really. Running from place to place, often only focused on the cycle of eat, drink, kill. The only thing left was hope that it could get better. Their lives were spent trying to avoid the walkers, the fate that had been dealt. But they couldn’t run forever. Eventually, fate will catch up.   
This cycle of thoughts was not an uncommon one; and Maggie was sure that she wasn’t the only one that struggled with it. She had seen Glenn’s nights laying awake, had noticed the way Rick watched Carl and Judith. And there was no answer to it, at least as far as she could see. So she let it fall to the back of her mind, stretched in her seat, and smiled at Glenn as the church came into view.   
A small fire was burning and Michonne was sitting by the road, sharpening her katana. They were still there. And as Maggie pulled up to the building, as sad as she was to share the falsity of the cure that they were so desperately holding on to, she felt a weight in her chest lift. Her family was here. She was home.   
She stepped out of the truck and, and with a small shake of her head, watched the faces around her darken. Beth stopped singing to Judith, but when the baby looked up at Maggie, her face spread into a massive grin. She squealed and laughed, because today was no loss to her. All she knew were the people she loved, and Maggie was one of them.   
Maggie picked Judith up and kissed her forehead, holding her warm body close. She didn’t need a cure to keep going. All she needed was this.


	4. Stew

Despite the chaos of Eugene’s injury, the disappointment of the lack of the cure, and the indecision of what to do next, Tara and Rosita still had found themselves alone in the office, sorting through boxes of ammunition. The events of that afternoon had luckily calmed down, although Eugene was left with a concussion and a broken nose.   
Tara’s reunion with the group was brief, as she wasn’t particularly close with anyone who had stayed behind, so she had volunteered to look through what ammunition they had left and sort it out. To her surprise (and excitement), Rosita had come with her.   
They were sitting oddly close, or at least closer than usual, but the conversation was limited, and Tara felt too awkward to know what to say. She tried not to glance up at the girl next to her, afraid she would catch her and think she was somehow staring.   
“No that’s a round nose, we’re putting those here,” Rosita grabbed Tara’s hand with the bullet in it and moved it over to the right container.   
Tara definitely hadn’t expected her to grab her hand, but she had no complaints. Trying not to read into it was the difficult part, though. She could have just taken the bullet from the pile and moved it, or even just told Tara to. But instead, she grabbed her hand.   
‘It doesn’t mean anything’ she thought to herself, but the truth was, she wasn’t too sure. When she lifted her head to finally look at Rosita, there she was, gazing right back at her.   
“What?” Rosita shrugged her shoulders and went back to work.   
Tara couldn’t help but feel a little disappointed at that, originally thinking she was about to kiss her or something, but she refused to let that get to her. She’d already accepted that Rosita was probably straight and certainly not into her.  
“Nothing, sorry.” She seemed to be saying that a lot lately. Claiming her actions meant nothing and apologizing for them even when she had much more in mind. They certainly weren’t nothing.  
Rosita crossed her arms and glanced at the other girl skeptically. “C’mon, you’re always talking about Friends or Harry Potter or whatever. You wouldn’t break the conversation for a horde of walkers; why are you so quiet now?”   
Fortunately for Tara, she was great at coming up with lies. Unfortunately for her, though, her execution in actually delivering them could use some work. “Oh, um… just thinking about Eugene.”   
“I have been too.” Rosita gave an understanding look. “As much as I feel like I should, for some reason I just can’t hate him. I’m incredibly angry at him, but for some reason I still want him to be okay.” She turned to see the setting sun through the window. “I should be more surprised or angry, or anything. But I’m not. I spent a year of my life hoping for this and honestly, if anything, it feels like a weight is off my shoulders. I know, it sounds terrible.”   
“It doesn’t sound… that terrible,” Tara mumbled. “As cool as it’d be to save the world, I don’t think anything would ever be the same to begin with.”  
“Yeah,” Rosita nodded. “I’ve spent the past year dreaming of erasing the past, but we were never going to be able to fix what was already done. You can’t bring back the dead, and it seems like you can’t change the future either. You can only try to survive in whatever this shithole tries to throw at you.”   
She paused, seemingly weighing her options, before she looked at Tara and smiled warily. “And sometimes, somehow, it throws you something good.”   
Tara’s eyes widened a little at that last part. She could feel her looking at her, meaning she had to look back, right? She did her best to hide her panic before lifting her head and returning the smile. “Yeah… something good” she echoed. Don’t stare at her lips.  
Rosita suddenly felt much closer, and the air felt much warmer, when Abraham’s shout echoed through the building. “TARA! Can you help me over here?”   
Tara jumped so much that she almost accidentally kissed Rosita right then and there. She gave her an apologetic smile and stood, stepping over their piles of bullets before leaving the room. Abraham was just outside of the door, and he looked as though he wanted to kill her.   
“We need to talk.” He marched outside without glancing behind him, but clearly expected her to follow. When they had gotten far away enough from the church that it was unlikely that anyone would overhear, he wasted no time in making his point.  
“Stay the hell away from Rosita.” Abraham grunted, running his fingers through his beard. “I don’t know what you think you’re doing with her but I’m not letting it happen anymore. She’s my girlfriend, you fucking pervert.”   
All Tara could do was gape at him incredulously. “That sounds a little controlling, don’t you think? You afraid she’s gonna leave you for a girl? She’s my friend, you fucking child.” That took a lot out of her to say the least, but she was proud of herself nonetheless.   
“I don’t care; you don’t think I’ve seen the way you act with her? She’s angry and her emotions are all over the place-- all of us are. And you’re taking advantage of that. Just because we’re…” He paused to choose his words carefully. “Fighting or whatever the hell is going on doesn’t mean you can run in here and snatch her up.”   
Tara scoffed. “If you’re that worried about her leaving you for me, maybe you should focus a little more on what you’re doing wrong and not what I’m doing right.” She had no intention of breaking contact with Rosita just because of something Abraham of all people said. She didn’t even like the guy. “I’m not taking advantage of anything. Rosita’s only with you because it makes things easier, she told me herself. I think I’m the least of your issues here.”  
Abraham snorted, but his assertiveness had significantly dropped. He doubted himself. “You’re lying.”   
“Ask her yourself then.” She was way too confident in Rosita actually agreeing instead of lying to cover her own ass, and the feeling of standing up to him was way too great to stop. With that, she walked away, but not before thrusting her knife into the skull of a walker that was about four steps from biting Abraham.  
To top it all off, she wiped the blood that remained on her knife onto his shirt.

Rosita tried to get work done while Tara was gone, but she was too lost in thought to do something even mindless as this was. She didn’t know why she was so worried; it’s not as if Abraham had seen anything that happened. ‘Not that anything happened,’ she told herself.   
When Tara stomped back into the office, she was the image of Boadicea herself. Shoulders held high, a knife in hand, and a smirk that stretched to her eyes. Rosita had to admit, she was a bit of a fan of this Tara. “What-” But Tara cut her off.   
“He told me to stay away from you,” she told Rosita before sitting even closer to her than she had been before. “Bullshit.”  
“Why?” Rosita knew exactly why, but she needed to hear it from Tara.   
“Because he’s an insecure little bitch and thinks you’re gonna leave him for me,” Tara chuckled.  
Rosita leaned her head back against the wall, her breath tightening. “Did he tell you why he thinks that?”   
“He’s apparently ‘seen the way I act’ with you and thinks I’m ‘taking advantage’ of your emotions being all over the place. Which is stupid, ‘cause I’m not.”  
“‘Taking advantage,’” Rosita muttered the words under her breath. It made her sound weak, like an infant who couldn’t make her own decisions. Who didn’t know her own heart. She mustered the courage to look the other girl in her deep, brown eyes, and with shaky breaths whispered, “No. You’re not.” Placing the last of the bullets in their respective containers or piles, Rosita took a deep breath and stood. “It’s getting dark, and dinner should be ready soon.” 

Beth had made a stew out of whatever remaining scraps of meat they had, and while everyone else (with the exception of Sasha, who was sulking after Bob’s death) drank theirs within a minute, Rosita could barely get it down. She watched Abraham, who was sitting alone in a dark corner, but mostly she watched Tara.   
Tara, who was full of stupid jokes and laughter, getting a hint of a smile out of even Daryl. Tara, who was currently play-punching Glenn so hard that he hissed in pain. Tara, who was profusely apologizing to Glenn for hurting him. Tara, who was feeding the last of her food to Judith, and asking Beth to sing a song. Tara, who always filled the silence. Tara, who knew how desperate things were but refused to admit it to almost anyone. Tara, who was sweet. Tara, who had a heart of gold. Tara, who would fight for the people she loved with every ounce of her soul. Tara, who kept glancing Rosita’s way.   
Tara.  
Tara.   
Tara.   
Rosita looked down at her lap and mouthed the name. What the hell was happening to her?  
Everytime she looked at the girl, she felt a pull in her chest. It was the same pull she had felt in the truck that morning, the same pull as she let out her secrets in the bookstore, the same pull even, that told her to ask her to come with them in the first place. The pull that she had thought felt like home. But what if it was more?  
It couldn’t be. She had never liked girls before. But this, this feeling she felt in her gut. It was something that couldn’t be described as purely friendship. Not when all she could think of were Tara’s lips, those sun-made honey eyes, the feel of her hand.   
But Abraham. Abraham had saved her life, had given her release and calm in a time when a world of endless tension and turmoil. He had been there for her for over a year, and he loved her. She could never repay him for that, and she felt like she had dragged him along for all this time for no reason. She should love him, because he loved her. But she didn’t. As much as she wanted to, and as much as she felt like a traitor and a cheater, she didn’t.   
Maybe she should stay with him anyways. Go along with it, until one or both of them die. But she had already wasted a year of his time. He didn’t deserve to live a lie, especially not with death as near as it likely was. She wished she could love him, wished she could fall back into that easy, simple, blissful lie.   
For a moment, Rosita let her gaze travel to Tara. The girl seemed to glow, to leave a bright sheen on everything she touched. Her smile was diamond in this place of ash and dirt. Rosita felt hyper-aware of the heat on her skin, the clothes on her back. How could she live a lie when something else felt so… right?  
Tara was beautiful and Tara was home. Rosita didn’t know what she was going to do, or even exactly how to process what she was feeling. But she knew that those two things were true, and that they were never going to change. She needed Tara close to her. She needed to hear her voice, her laugh, her mindless stories. She needed to hold her hand, to stare into her eyes, to kiss her. Rosita had never believed in love in first sight, or love within a few weeks. But regardless of love, she knew that Tara was incredible. And she knew that she needed her.   
As everyone went to sleep, Rosita lay awake, staring at the ceiling and twirling her knife between her fingers.   
What the hell was she going to do?


	5. Primrose Everdeen

During the night, the group assigned two people at a time to keep watch. These people were switched out every three hours or so, making it so that four to six people were on duty each night. Usually it was done in a sort of cycle, as no one particularly wanted the job, but that night, for some reason, Maggie volunteered herself for the first shift. That may have had something to do with the fact that Judith was refusing to sleep and Rick looked as though he was about to either strangle her or pass out, but whatever the reason, she’d asked Glenn to take the second spot.   
They were about an hour into their shift on the front porch of the church and Judith was still awake, although much calmer than she had been with Rick and the chaos of inside. Despite his job supposedly being to, as the name suggested, watch for walkers, Glenn couldn’t take his eyes off of his wife and the baby.   
She looked over and smiled. “What?”   
All Glenn could do was shake his head, but in reality, he just couldn’t stop thinking about how perfect the image in front of him was. And for a moment, he felt a flash of envy towards Rick. That was, until he remembered what had happened to Lori, and then all he felt was guilt. Guilt for being jealous in the first place, guilt for wanting a baby.  
But god, did Maggie look perfect holding Judith.

When Judith had smiled at Maggie earlier in the day, she knew that her choice to try to have a baby was the right one. And now, holding this little girl in her arms, she only felt more sure. Judith knew nothing of walkers or evil men or cannibals. She was sweet, and trusting, and warm, and soft. Looking at her, Maggie felt for once that she was truly alive. This right here, rocking an infant under the stars, with the love of her life beside her.   
This is what set them apart from the dead.   
She felt tears falling down her face, all her emotions that had built up over the last few weeks pouring out. Hershel dying, the fall of the prison, the hope of a cure and then having that cure abruptly ripped away.   
Judith, seeing her, began wailing. Maggie remembered Beth once mentioning that she thought Judith could sense emotions, and immediately wiped her face and began trying to quiet the baby. “Oh, oh no, I’m so sorry.”  
“What happened?” Glenn whispered, moving closer to the two of them. He glanced around the area, presumably for walkers, and then began cooing at Judith to help calm her down.  
“Nothing, I’m sorry,” Maggie repeated. She sniffled and blinked back the last of her tears, letting out a sharp laugh. “It’s just... been a lot.” Collecting herself, she grabbed Glenn’s hand. “But I have you.” She changed her voice to a coo, tickling Judith, “And you.” Sighing, she looked into his soft, black eyes. “And that’s enough. We’re okay.”   
A small smile formed on Glenn’s face. “Yeah. We’re okay.”  
` The sky was clear that night, as it had been for at least a week now. It hadn’t rained in a while, and the walk to the nearest stream was a long one. They would have to leave and find somewhere else soon. Maggie glanced down at the baby lying in her lap, who while still wide awake, had significantly quieted down. She was currently intently gazing at the stars, her eyes wide as if she was seeing them for the first time.   
Most of the time recently when Maggie looked at the night sky, the only thing that crossed her mind was how late in the year it was getting. When she was young, her father had taught her the positioning of stars in the south during different times of year, and by the looks of it now, it was around September. It would get cold soon, especially this far north, and she had no idea how they were going to get through it. Winter in Georgia was hard enough; it had only snowed a few times and never for long.   
But looking now, she tried to see the stars in the same way she saw them when she was young, the way that Judith must be seeing them now. As a wide, beautiful expanse that showed something beyond this world, something more. These memories of lying in fields at midnight gave her an idea.   
“Glenn?” She nudged him with her elbow.   
“Hm?”   
“Can you hold Judith for a second? I want to check something out.”   
He took Judith from her lap, laying her flat in his own so she could continue gazing up at the stars.   
Maggie slowly rose and crept towards the edge of the woods with a small, hopeful smile on her face. 

Glenn watched Maggie quizzically, wondering what the hell she could possibly be doing by the woods at two in the morning, but whatever it was, he didn’t verbally question it. She looked excited about it, so he let her be.   
He turned his attention back to Judith, softly chuckling at the expression on her face. Somehow, even in all of this, she still looked so peaceful. In a way, he envied her. What he would give to still be able to find wonder in the world, especially in something as simple as the stars. To find peace in looking up at the night sky.   
Maggie softly padded back to the pair after a few minutes, whispering “C’mon.”   
Despite his confusion, Glenn lifted Judith out of his lap and got to his feet. “What’s going on?” he asked with a laugh, glancing around to make sure the area was still clear.   
“You’ll see, just follow me.” Grabbing his hand, she giggled in a way he wasn’t sure he had heard since the prison,“Come on!” She began leading him toward the edge of the woods where she had been searching, and perched on the ground next to a bush.   
“See, here,” Maggie pushed away a few plants to reveal a patch of delicate, bright yellow flowers. “They’re evening primroses; they were my favorite flowers when I was little. They bloom at night and close during the day, and I would drag Beth around in the middle of the night to search for them.” She placed her palm on her forehead and softly laughed, shaking her head at herself.   
“I’m sorry, it’s really, stupid, I just remembered them when Judith was staring at the stars like that. The wonder in her eyes…” Maggie began reflectively rubbing the petals between her fingers. “My dad’s family is descended from Ireland, but my mom grew up there. She would always tell me the old fairy tales she heard as a kid, will-o-the-wisps and all that. She said that where a batch of primroses lay, nearby would be an entrance to the faerie kingdom. In the daytime, I didn’t really believe it, but for some reason, at night, magic felt more tangible. So I would chase after these until I was probably nine or ten, much too old to actually think I was going to find anything, but still holding out a little bit of hope.  
“I was thinking about Judith, and thinking about children in general earlier. I thought, ‘In this world, how are kids even going to have a childhood?’ I thought that they would just be savage, instinctual things only focused on survival. That probably will still be true to some degree but… Judith looks at the stars the same way I remember Beth staring at my mom playing the piano when she was a baby. The same way I looked at these flowers. They can still have magic and beauty.” Standing up, Maggie plucked one of the flowers from the patch and tucked it behind Judith’s ear, who was now almost asleep in Glenn’s arms. She grabbed Glenn’s hand.   
“We can give it to them.” 

That night, after Maggie had fallen asleep, all Glenn found himself able to do was think. To think about his wife, the baby they wanted to have, the world. Those damn flowers. The beauty they held, blooming even amongst the darkness, continuing to grow and thrive even in the state the world was in. And because of those flowers, Glenn realized something. He realized that, no matter how awful the world turned out to be, how many walkers, how many bad people, there could still be beauty. Innocence. Good things could still come.   
They didn’t have to throw their entire lives away and become shells of the people they once were, and he didn’t plan on ever letting that happen. Maybe bringing a baby into the world wasn’t the best idea. Maybe it was stupid, a recipe for disaster, whatever else any other person would tell them. But looking at Judith and looking at those flowers told him otherwise. Good, beautiful things were still out there, and if even they weren’t, they could create their own.   
Even his and Maggie’s relationship showed that. Through it all, they had found one another, and they had stayed with each other. The fact that they were able to get to the point of wanting a baby together was enough on its own. So hell, if the world had collapsed, so be it. They never could have controlled it to begin with. But what he knew was that they could control their own damn lives, and if that meant making a selfish decision to find the good in the world, then maybe, just maybe, he’d do something to fulfill his own wishes for one single time in his life. Because, as Maggie had told him countless times before, he didn’t deserve to just be walker bait.


	6. Spittle Combining in their Mouths

Rosita was set to be second shift that night, and she crept up when she thought it must be time. She was supposed to be on duty with Rick, but he looked completely and entirely exhausted. So she went alone, figuring that it would be easier for her to think out there by herself anyways. As she inched open the door, she gave one final glance toward Tara, the moonlight from a window illuminating her sleeping face. 

Glenn, somehow, was nowhere near tired despite the many hours that he had been up. On any normal day, he would have been exhausted, but his mind was just too busy to even think about sleep yet. His and Maggie’s--although, she had fallen asleep, so it was really just his-- time on watch was about to end, however, so he’d at least have the opportunity to try.  
Or at least, he thought he’d have the opportunity to try. That was, until Rosita approached him, looking as though she had just as much on her mind.   
“Hey,” she whispered, sinking down next to him. “It’s my turn, you can go to sleep now.” She smiled knowingly, glancing at Maggie and the sleeping baby nestled under her arm.   
“I’m alright,” he shrugged. “I’ll just take the next shift, too.” He knew for a fact that it’d be useless to even try to get some rest, so he figured he’d at least give someone else a few extra hours instead of just laying there.   
“Well you can stay, but I’m not going anywhere, ” Rosita sighed and sat down, resting her chin on her fists. They sat in silence for a while, with the occasional brief perimeter check. It was a relatively quiet night; they only saw a few walkers. After a few tries of opening her mouth and promptly shutting it again, Rosita finally spoke up. “When you met Maggie,” she started, inclining her head towards the sleeping girl, “how did you know that she was the right one?”  
Despite almost immediately being able to guess what she was referring to, Glenn tried his hardest to act as though he had no idea. “It took a while, I guess” he said slowly, trying his best to pinpoint the exact time that he really knew. “I think I loved her for a while, maybe from the time I first met her; it just took a long time to realize it. But… when we got out of Woodbury, and even while we were still separated within there, I realized I almost lost her. It made me think about how I didn’t want to live without her.”  
Rosita nodded somberly, looking out into the distance as he spoke. As she took a moment to collect herself, tracing lines in her pants, Glenn could have sworn he heard her repeat under her breath, “From the first time I met her.” Eventually she returned his gaze. “Was there ever any doubt? Or were you sure from the moment you suspected it?”  
He pulled his knees up and rested his wrists against them, trying to think of how exactly he was supposed to put what he was thinking. “I never doubted that I liked her but… that I loved her, maybe. I think I was afraid to for a while. The situation sucked, and she was the first to say it, so I was just confused.” He paused, finally turning to look at her. “Is this about Abraham or Tara?”  
Rosita sat with her mouth agape, clenching it shut as she seemingly realized what she was doing. She blinked rapidly, and coughed out in quick succession, “Abraham. Yeah, of course, Abraham.” The girl turned away from him, curling her fist and continuing whatever she was doing to her jeans earlier, but in a more random, stressed manner.   
“It’s okay, I won’t say anything.” Glenn gave her a small smile, knowing with absolute certainty that everything that she had just said was about his best friend. For the most part, he was excited for Tara, as it was blatantly obvious (at least to him) how much she liked Rosita. But that other part of him felt awful that Rosita was going through so much stress while trying to figure out her feelings in the first place. “I saw you two the other day… I probably wouldn’t have figured it out if I didn’t.”  
“I’m sorry,” Rosita buried her head in her hands. “I’m sorry I’m putting all this stupid shit on you.” She chuckled. “I mean, relationship drama at the end of the world.” She shrugged, and again continued the pants-drawing-thing. Glenn assumed it must be somewhat of a nervous habit. “I just--” Now she was picking at the jeans. And so the anxiety escalates. “I don’t want to hurt Abraham. I really don’t. He’s the reason I’m alive, talking to you right now. But Tara…” She said the next words in a whisper so low Glenn could barely make it out. “But Tara makes me feel alive.”  
He turned his body so he was fully facing her. “Hey, it’s okay… It’s not your fault you don’t like him, right?” He offered a smile in hopes that it’d serve as some form of comfort. “Just… don’t lead him on. Tell him like it is, or you’ll both get hurt.”  
Rosita seemed at least somewhat comforted by this. “Thank you,” she said, finally fully meeting his eyes. After a pause, she continued. “Sorry to make you my fucking counsulor, but… if it were you, how would you want to be told? Am I supposed to just walk up to him and say, ‘Sorry, Abraham, but I’ve fallen in love with a girl?’” Rosita began laughing almost hysterically, her thin body shaking as she attempted to cover it with her palms.   
Despite himself, Glenn chuckled (only because she had started laughing as well). How exactly he’d want to be told? He had almost no idea. He had to sit and think for a good minute or so before actually forming some sort of answer, and even then, it wasn’t the greatest. “Well I mean… if it was Maggie, I’d just want her to be honest. Lies hurt more. It’s better to tell him how you’re feeling and just let him react how he needs to, I think.”  
Rosita gradually brought herself back down from her laughter, composing herself and replying with the sudden somberness that usually only only applies to drunks, “Unless that reaction is trying to kill someone again. Because I will actually follow through and shoot him in the chest this time.” She went quiet for a moment, her eyes going wide as she said, “What if he hurts Tara? He would never do it on purpose, but if he got angry enough and snapped...” She bit her lip and looked down at her lap.  
“She really deserves someone like you, you know.” Just hearing about Tara’s exes, crushes, hookups, whatever, Glenn had never known a shittier love life. Hearing someone talk about her like Rosita had made him so happy, and he knew in that instant that, no matter how long it took, they’d work out.   
“Me and Maggie were gonna go on a run tomorrow. You two can just come with us, and I’ll have Tara leave with me first so she’s not there when it happens” he told her, shrugging nonchalantly. Glenn wouldn’t have put it past Abraham to lash out on Tara or even Rosita, but he trusted her and Maggie enough to know that they’d do what they had to and be alright.   
“Seriously? You’d do that for my stupid relationship issues? Thank you.” Rosita smirked. “You know, I would hug you, but I’m sure Tara will be giving you more of those than you could handle tomorrow.” 

~+~+~+tell me why (ain’t nothing but a heartache)+~+~+~

Rosita and Maggie never really had gotten close over the past few weeks. They didn’t dislike each other, but they just hadn’t really had a grand bonding experience like Glenn and Tara had had as friends. They were the section of that weird square of relationships that was yet to be tied.   
And, well, today was as good as any other for that to finally happen. Not that they suddenly wanted to make friendship bracelets or die for one another like their respective lovers but… they had some semblance of connection now.   
The goal of the morning was simple: Rosita was to break up with Abraham, and then they were to get the hell out of there. Maggie was relatively silent through the whole affair, but she wasn’t unsupportive.   
She just thought that this drama at the end of the end of the world was a bit pointless. Glenn had told her everything and it was very… high school… but at least two people would be slightly happier after it. She had never really liked Abraham anyways. So, as she watched Rosita drag Abraham outside and say bluntly, “I’m breaking up with you,” she couldn’t help but feel herself smile a little. This girl had guts.   
Abraham stared at her, looking as though he was about to pop a blood vessel. “It’s ‘cause of Tara, ain’t it? Why in the hell are you listenin’ to her?”  
The girl’s voice didn’t waver, despite the fact that she was facing a man twice as tall and three times as wide as she. “I’m not listening to anyone. I think I would have broken up with you regardless. But yes, in some ways, it’s because of her.”   
A look of realization seemed to settle on Abraham’s face. “You ain’t gay. You just hang around her too much.”  
Rosita took a deep breath. “I don’t know if I’m gay. I do know that I’m attracted to Tara though. And I’m sorry, Abraham, but it’s in ways I’ve never felt about you. I realized that and I thought that… I don’t want to drag you along pointlessly.”   
“So then you’re really just gonna leave me for her?” In the moment, he somehow resembled both a sad dog you’d see in a commercial for an animal shelter and one with rabies.   
“I’m sorry, Abraham,” Rosita finally began to falter, and Maggie cursed herself a bit. She seemed to realize that her conviction was running low too though, as she turned away with a whispered, “goodbye.”  
Before Rosita could walk away, Abraham reached and grabbed her arm.   
She wrestled in his grasp, “Let me go.” Maggie’s hand reached to her side, ready to pull her pistol.  
“No, wait, just listen to me.” He only held her arm tighter, very clearly desperate.   
Rosta’s free hand went to her holster. “Abraham, if you don’t let me go within the next ten seconds I swear to god I will pull this gun on you and use it. And if you were to somehow prevent me from doing so, Maggie over there will blow your skull to bits.”  
Abraham gave her one final look before letting her go, putting both of his hands up. He more resembled the shelter dog, then. Maggie had never seen a grown man look so defeated.  
Rosita stood a few feet away from him now. “You saved my life a million times, Abraham, and I can never repay you for that. But I can’t live a lie. Not with so little time left. And you shouldn’t have to either.”  
With that, she walked away, her head held high. With a nod, Maggie followed her, and both started gathering their things to leave. Stupid high school drama, yes.   
But Maggie had to respect the girl.   
They said their goodbyes, or at least Maggie did. They would be gone overnight at least, as they were basically just making a blind shot to the nearest town. She felt bad, leaving Beth for the third time in the span of a few weeks, so she took the time to show Beth the evening primroses, though they were closed up at this time of day. Beth of course was enchanted, and hugged Maggie like her life depended on it.   
“Don’t die out there,” the blond girl whispered. Maggie kissed her sister’s forehead and smiled grimly. “I won’t. And you better not die either.”  
And with that, Maggie and Rosita were off. 

Rosita felt like a huge weight was off of her shoulders, and couldn’t walk over to where Glenn and Tara were hiding fast enough. Maggie had to ask her several times to slow down (it was one hundred degrees and she was going to die of a heat stroke), but that really only lasted for a few seconds before she found herself speed-walking again. She had no idea what kind of Abraham she would return to tomorrow. Honestly, she didn’t even know if she would return tomorrow. But right now, there was only one thing on her mind.   
Spotting that particular thing on her mind waiting against a tree, Rosita had no hesitation in walking up to her. Grabbing her face.  
Kissing her.   
Upon pulling away, Tara looked so stunned that Rosita thought she had killed her. When she seemed to collect herself, she asked, “What was that for?”  
Rosita coyly shrugged, backing away a few inches. “It’s the end of the world. Why the hell not?”   
“Well I guess that solved that problem,” Glenn mumbled. “So, um, this is a really nice moment, Guinevere and Lancelot, but we should really get going.”  
Maggie snorted. “Glenn, do I want to know what that is?”  
“Camelot” he said simply, as if she’d know what that even was. Maggie shook her head but let it go. In this heat, Rosita didn’t think anyone, even Tara, wanted to hear a twelve hour story about inconsequential nerdy lore.  
They began walking, Maggie and Glenn leading the way as Tara and Rosita lagged behind. And lagged was definitely the correct word; the two would often stop and just laugh at themselves, and may have had a few small pauses to kiss.   
The small part being debatable.   
Eventually Maggie called back, “Can you two please save whatever high-school thing is going on until tonight? I don’t want it to get dark before we have time to get our shit and find somewhere to hole up.”   
So that brought an end to their new-relationship-fun. They would continue it later, Rosita thought.  
Of course, as they were soon to find out, this would be their last moment of fun for a very long time.


	7. Who Wants to Live Forever?

After the four of them found the supplies, they searched for a place to set up a camp for the night. It took some time, but they eventually came across a very steep hill, and on that hill was a house.  
Figuring it would be their best shot at a decent place away from walkers, they made their way up, and Tara only fell once. That might as well have been a record, considering the fact that she was staring at Rosita almost the entire time and paying little to no attention to what she was doing.  
Rosita was staring back at that matter, but seemed to have at least some degree of self control.  
It was getting dark, however, almost to the point that they weren’t able to see, so this paired with Tara’s lack of agility meant that she inevitably misstepped, almost sending her careening backwards down the hill. Glenn caught her hand just in time, but upon turning around, the others went pale.  
After finally making it to the top of what was probably more accurately a cliff, Maggie sunk to her knees, letting out a gasp that broke Tara’s heart more than any scream could have.  
“Maggie, I’m okay…” she whispered, confused as to why she was crying. That couldn’t have scared her that bad, right?  
Glenn kneeled next to his wife and wrapped his arms around her in some failed attempt to comfort her. Even he looked near tears, and his face was white as a ghost. Tara didn’t know what to do or say.  
Rosita, clearly disturbed, shook her head and forced Tara to look over the tree-line. From where they were standing, they had a clear view of the church, and completely and entirely surrounding it was a horde of what looked like thousands of walkers.  
Tara took in a sharp breath and covered her mouth, unable to take her eyes away from the awful sight. With that amount, death was almost guaranteed. She herself almost collapsed, and if not for Rosita’s hands positioned on her shoulders, she probably would have.  
“We have to go, we have to go help them,” Maggie pleaded, trying to wrench herself out of Glenn’s arms.  
“We can’t, Maggie,” he choked, only holding her tighter. “There’s too many.”  
Rosita tried to sound confident, but her voice sounded as weak and pale as her face. “We’ll go back when they’re gone; everyone will have left and we’ll just wait for them to circle back around.”  
Maggie reluctantly allowed herself to be dragged over to the house, Glenn murmuring, “She’ll be fine. She’s made it before.” He didn’t have to clarify for Tara to know he was talking about Beth. 

Maggie sat on the floor near the entryway, ready to leave and blindly rush out to her sister at any moment. They all kept saying that the group would make it out, but that couldn’t be true. There were thousands of walkers, maybe even tens of thousands. And the church was in a valley; they wouldn’t see them coming. Once they did, they’d have nowhere to go.  
They were all going to die. Beth, Sasha-- she squeezed her eyes tight, trying not to imagine Judith being torn apart, limb by limb. They were all going to die, and Maggie couldn’t do anything about it.  
Part of her wished she was there with them. There to try and fight even if it was hopeless, even if it would just mean one more death with them. Right now, she, Glenn, Tara and Rosita were all just sitting here, waiting for what? To go back to find the gutted bodies of their friends? Or worse-- to have to kill them again?  
Glenn and Tara had checked the house, finding no living or undead inhabitants, and Rosita was pacing back and forth. Maggie couldn’t imagine what she was going through. It was hard enough feeling like she had left Beth behind when she had depended on her, but Rosita had just broken up with a person who was now very likely dead. And Rosita would be too; if not for her leaving Abraham both she and Tara wouldn’t have gone on this run.  
Maggie suddenly remembered there being a small gap in the mostly locked-in-by-hills area of the church. It was somewhat hidden and probably not big enough for more than a single car to get through, but it was there. It would have been a shortcut to the highway, and maybe from there they would have been able to get out.  
Maybe.  
They were still most likely dead though. 

After a lot of crying and a lot of convincing, Maggie eventually fell asleep on Glenn’s shoulder, and Rosita was curled on the floor next to Tara. Glenn was just happy that Maggie was even able to fall asleep, because he had no such luck. He’d given up after maybe ten minutes, instead watching Maggie and playing with her hair.  
He felt eyes on him from the floor, and sure enough, Tara was looking up at him. When he finally caught her gaze, she spoke, her voice hushed. “Do you think they’re okay?”  
Truthfully, Glenn had no idea what to think. He wanted to believe they were all alive and had escaped to somewhere safe, but he just didn’t know if that could have happened. There were hundreds of walkers and ten of them.  
“I hope they are,” he sighed, knowing that was the only honest answer he could give. They’d done it before, at least, so hopefully they could do it again.  
“Before we found the prison, we were all staying at Maggie’s farm,” Glenn started, figuring the story might aid in easing Tara’s mind. “It got overrun. We lost a few people, but almost everyone made it out. Maybe it’ll be like that again.”  
As sad as it was, Glenn was almost sure that there’d be at least a few deaths, but he knew Rick, and he knew the group. They were strong, and they could handle it.  
“Maybe,” Tara echoed, although she didn’t look completely convinced. “Were there as many walkers as there are now?”  
Glenn thought for a moment, then nodded. “I think so. A little less, probably, but I guess that doesn’t really make a difference.” He avoided mentioning the fence that, although partially collapsed, kept some of them from entering the yard itself. It wasn’t worth it.  
A small, sad smile formed on Tara’s lips. “They’re gonna be okay. They have to be.”  
He could only hope that she was right. 

Looking out at dawn, it seemed that the horde of walkers was almost gone. There still seemed to be some down there (they couldn’t really see individual figures from how far away they were), but almost gone was enough for them to make their way back to see what was left.  
Rosita cursed her timing. Abraham could be dead, and she had just broken his heart. The guilt felt like it would crush her, but she still hoped that he could have gotten away. She turned to look at Tara, who was currently whispering something to Glenn; what, she did not know. Whatever it was, it made his grim expression turn into the slightest of smiles.  
She knew she made the right decision with Tara. But that didn’t make her feel any less guilty. Often, what she knew to be true and herr feelings were kept stubbornly separate. Rosita made her way to her...girlfriend? Whatever the hell she was, this wasn’t the time to dwell on it, and brushed her hair out of her face. “You don’t have to do that, you know,” Rosita softly whispered in her ear.  
Tara’s eyebrows furrowed. “Do what?” she asked.  
“Be our emotional support system, or whatever the hell you’re doing.” She sighed, picking a loose thread from her pants. “Whatever we see when we get there, I don’t think it’s going to be good. And just because you’re less connected to the people there…” she paused, trying to find the words. “It doesn’t mean you should be left behind, that’s all.”  
“I like helping you guys” Tara shrugged, glancing over at Glenn and Maggie. “The world is shit and it’s always gonna be, but that doesn’t mean I shouldn’t try to make you feel at least a little better.”  
“I know, that’s one of the things I like about you” Rosita sighed. “Just… you have the right to be upset, or angry, or anything too, alright?” She laughed, or at least gave the closest approximation to one she could give. “Besides, it kinda pisses me off how you and Glenn seem to always be so optimistic.”  
Rosita shook her head. “Anyways, just… don’t keep shit bottled up or you’ll end up like Abraham, alright?”  
“I won’t” Tara whispered, pressing a kiss to Rosita’s cheek. “I promise.”  
Rosita squeezed Tara’s shoulder and took a deep breath. At the next turn in about a half mile, they would be in full view of the church.  
Or whatever was left of it, anyways. 

Whatever was left was a fucking… really there were no words to describe it. Certainly nothing came to mind for Maggie, all she saw were...  
Walkers  
A caved in building  
And all the cars were still there.  
All the cars were still there. The chances that they made it out without a vehicle were… Maggie pushed it down. She couldn’t feel it, not yet. So she stepped forward, unaware of the tears streaming down her face.  
The first one she saw was Eugene. She felt nothing as she drove a knife through the walker’s skull; she couldn’t feel anything yet.  
Next was Sasha. At this, Maggie could feel the bile begin to rise in her throat, but again pushed it down. Tara took care of that one.  
They approached the destroyed church in a slow progression. They didn’t want to see what was in there; but it was like magnets were pulling them to it. To the side of the porch, Father Gabriel. And below him, so gutted that there was nothing left to get up.  
Abraham.  
Maggie heard the sounds behind her. A cry, the thud of knees against the ground, and Tara’s tearful, “Don’t look, don’t look.” But it all felt a thousand miles away, like she could barely hear it. Glenn was the one who ended him.  
Maggie averted her gaze to the door of the building. As her body climbed the steps, it seemed like she was not even attached to it, like she was watching herself from somewhere far, far away. She opened the door and heard  
A wail.  
An earsplitting, deafening wail. So different from the sounds of the dead, this was something very alive.  
And absolutely terrified.  
She felt her feet move toward the sound, first slowly, and then in a run.  
The sound was coming from the back office, from underneath a fallen cabinet surrounded by walkers. Maggie must have killed them, but she couldn’t remember the action. All she could remember was lifting the cabinet and finding under it Judith.  
She was alive. The baby continued screaming as Maggie picked her up, trying in vain to quiet her.  
As she left the building, Judith in her arms, Rick was at the front of the porch.  
And Tara shoved a blade through his skull.  
Finally, it seemed, the emotions were coming out, and Maggie sat onto the porch, her sobs battling Judith’s in intensity.  
They all stood in silence for a while. It could have been thirty seconds, it could have been an hour, Maggie did not know. Eventually they decided to leave. There was nothing left.  
The path to the highway, the one that Maggie had so desperately put her hopes on, was entirely trampled. If anyone escaped through there, the horde was soon to follow. But one patch of life remained somehow standing.  
The evening primroses.


	8. Depression and Repression

The group was currently stationed at the edge of the highway in hopes that any survivors circling back around would see them. They sat in silence, losing more and more hope with each minute that passed. Just because they had only found Rick, Abraham, Sasha, Eugene, and Father Gabriel dead didn’t mean that the rest were alive. For all Maggie knew, they could be wandering off with the rest of the herd.   
Judith had not halted her crying in the hours they had sat at the side of the road, and it was starting to get dark. Maggie was worried; the herd had to still be nearby, and the last thing she wanted was to attract them, but no matter what they did, she wouldn’t stop. She clearly knew that something was wrong, and no amount of convincing or rocking would tell her otherwise.   
Maggie hadn’t let go of the baby since she picked her up, and was clutching her to her chest like she was a lifeline. Beth was usually the only person who could calm Judith down at the prison, especially in the early days when Rick was… distant. When Maggie tried to consider what she would do, it was obvious. She would sing.   
Maggie searched her brain for songs, and began singing the first thing that came to mind.  
“Maps stretched out,   
Too many miles to count,  
Let’s just say we’re inches apart.  
And even closer at heart,  
We’ll be just fine.”  
When the words came out, Maggie found herself taken aback by her own voice. It had been so long since she had heard herself sing. Lo and behold, Judith had quieted, and was now intently staring at the face above her.   
“Keep going,” Glenn whispered, smiling as he seemingly noticed the expression on Judith’s face. “It’s working.”  
Maggie wiped away tears and smiled at Judith.   
“Another pin pushed in,  
To remind us where we’ve been.  
And every mile adds up  
And leaves a mark on us   
And sometimes our compass breaks   
And our steady true north fades  
We’ll be just fine.”  
She repeated the chorus as a steady chant: “We’ll be just fine,” meaning it almost as much as a reassurance to Judith as one to herself.  
“I know that we will.”  
The next words were sung in a whisper, barely audible to herself.   
“I just know we will.”

She should be dead. That’s all Rosita could think. Abraham was dead and she should be too. And as much as she knew that it wasn’t, she felt like it was her fault. She had experienced death like this before, escaping purely by luck, by now too many times to count. She had witnessed the deaths of people she had lived with longer and cared for more than Abraham. But that didn’t make it hurt any less.   
The only one of them that slept that night was Glenn. He didn’t do so easily, but Rosita didn’t think he had slept the past two nights. The other three sat in silence, Maggie cradling Judith, Rosita picking at the grass, and Tara twirling her fingers through Rosita’s hair. As conflicted and terrible as Rosita felt, she couldn’t help but feel comforted by the action. It was strange how much could change in a few days.   
They would have to start moving in the morning. For all they knew, the herd could be half a mile away. Where they would go, Rosita had no idea. They could keep heading north to D.C or further; if anything cold winters seemed to slow the walkers down. But she didn’t think they could survive more than a bit of snow unless they found someplace like how Glenn and Maggie described the prison. They could go back south, but what was even the point of doing that?  
What was the point of moving forward if you had nothing, and no one left, to move toward?

Tara really had to pee. Like, /really/ had to pee. For maybe an hour already, she’d avoided saying anything out of fear that she’d further upset Rosita and Maggie, but she felt as though her bladder would explode if she waited much longer. The only other option was Glenn, but he hadn’t slept in so long that she just couldn’t bring herself to disturb him.   
So, she suffered in silence, distracting herself by twirling strands of Rosita’s hair around her fingers and making Judith laugh.   
The truth was, Tara had absolutely no idea how to comfort neither Maggie nor her own girlfriend, which, frankly, she felt horrible about. She was sad as ever that they lost so many people, and she personally had experienced her own losses, but she didn’t know the first thing about helping someone to feel better afterwards.   
Somehow, not knowing about what had happened and if anyone was still alive made the situation seem that much worse, because not only did everything she /wanted/ to say have the potential of giving false hope and resultantly being more detrimental, but she herself wasn’t all too convinced that everyone else was okay.  
And then, Maggie passed her the baby.  
“Can you hold her for a minute? I have to pee.”  
Tara wanted to cry, and she just about did. It really was just that easy. She’d sat there for an hour, trying to think about anything but, and the person she was trying not to upset was the one to leave first.   
“Please take me with you…”

~+~+~+hi, welcome to chili’s+~+~+~

Maggie hadn’t said a word all day. Even if Glenn knew the reason as to why, he grew increasingly worried with every moment of silence that passed. No matter what he did, what he said, she wouldn’t even look at him. She just watched Judith in her lap, and would at most nod or shake her head in response to whatever he happened to say.  
Her losing Beth was somehow worse than him losing Rick, or at least in his mind. Not only was Beth her little sister who he knew she felt responsible for, but with Rick, they knew he was dead. They saw his body, they killed whatever he was as a walker.   
But with Beth, they didn’t know if she was out there or not. She could very well be somewhere off in the woods, alive and trying to find them, but chances were, she wasn’t. And not knowing seemed to be what was making Maggie so sick.   
“We should hold a funeral for them,” were her first words spoken, and the break from the silence made everyone pause in their tracks. “We couldn’t get their bodies out of there, but that doesn’t mean that they don’t deserve our fucking respect. I mean, what have we even become? It seems the only thing we’re doing anymore is waiting to die, so at least when that happens there should be some recognition of it.”   
And with no further clarification, she marched on, still holding on to Judith as if she were a lifeline.   
They were heading back towards the house on the hill as Rosita had half-heartedly suggested, figuring that it was as safe a place as any to hide out until they figured something out. It was high enough that hopefully they would be able to see (and defend against) anything coming, and steep enough that nothing dead should be able to come up in the first place.   
Glenn did agree with her though, about holding some sort of a funeral. It felt like it had been so long since when Dale died, when the next two weeks were spent in mourning for him. Now, people died and they simply just moved on, so focused on running away that they never even had the chance to breathe and think about what they had left behind.   
It couldn’t have been two months ago when they were safe behind prison walls. They had a community; they had some semblance of rebuilt society. He should have been thinking that this was surprising, or that everything moved so fast, but that really wasn’t true. In a few weeks, at least ninety-nine percent of the world’s population had died. In a few weeks, he fell in love with Maggie at the farm. In a few weeks, Tara became one of the most important people to him, and in a few days, it seemed that she and Rosita had formed their own love. In this world, nothing moved fast and everything did. 

They had the funeral the next day. No one was buried, but the group of five stood together at dawn, the nine stick crosses that they had created facing east towards the sunrise. They had made monuments for Rick, Abraham, Eugene, Sasha, Hershel, and Father Gabriel. Tara had made others for her family, for her sister, her niece, and someone named Alisha, for whom she did not relay her relation to and no one asked. Rosita was pretty sure she could assume.   
Nothing was made for the rest of their missing group. As likely as it was that they were dead, they just couldn’t admit it to themselves. So they stood at their nine graves, and they watched the sky gradually grow brighter.   
Rosita kneeled at Abraham’s grave, carving his name so deep into the wood that she wasn’t entirely sure her knife wouldn’t poke through the other side. She darkly chuckled despite herself at the little voice in her head saying, ‘He’s better off, he’s with his wife and kids now.’ No he wasn’t. He was rotting in the earth, and so were his wife and kids but one thousand miles away. Rosita had never expected to live beyond him. He was the physically strong one, the protector of their ‘mission’. She just held onto him like a parasite. The last one surviving was supposed to be Abraham or Eugene. Not her.  
Tara had picked some tiger lilies and placed them at her sister’s grave, then taking a bracelet off of her wrist and hanging it on Meghan’s. It was one of those cheap fake silver things, and had “best aunt ever” inscribed onto it. Tears began to stream down her face, and Rosita reached back to squeeze her hand. She wondered if Tara ever really took the time to cry about it, and memories of another child threatened to rise into her mind. She pushed them down.   
Maggie and Glenn sat at Hershel’s grave, Maggie reading from a worn bible she found in the house. “I don’t even know if he still believed it at the end, but I think he still would have wanted this,” Maggie whispered. Glenn only nodded in agreement and squeezed her shoulder. He was holding on to something; what appeared to Rosita as a very, very old watch.  
Maggie and Glenn always seemed like they could talk without ever speaking. With a squeeze of a hand or just looking at one another, they completely understood one another. It was as if they were two halves of the same whole; and Rosita almost couldn’t imagine them apart. When she first met Glenn, the only thing on his mind, the only thing he could talk about, was finding his wife. He stared at that little photo every single night. They were always completely in sync, and as beautiful as they were Rosita could also feel her heart break.  
She prayed that when they died, whether that be tomorrow or, as appeared to be the best case scenario in this world, a year from now, that it would be together. She could live beyond Abraham, and honestly, at this point at least, if Tara died she could probably keep going. But from what she had seen, they were a unit that could not be unwound. 

Maggie had finally let go of Judith to some degree, be that Glenn holding her instead. As everyone got up and left, to hunt or whatever else they were going to do that day, Glenn lingered in front of Rick’s grave.  
“We’ll take care of her,” he whispered, his eyes glistening with tears as he gazed down at the police badge they’d managed to take for him. “Me and Maggie, we’ll take care of her.”  
Glenn wiped his eyes and cradled Judith against his chest, staring at the grave for only a few moments longer before making his way back towards the house. The fact that he’d been envious of Rick at one point for having her was eating away at him, because now Rick was gone, and the responsibility of raising her had fallen onto his own shoulders. Rick would never get to see his own child grow up.  
He went inside and sat down next to Maggie, wrapping an arm around her and kissing her temple. It was a simple gesture, but it was enough. They didn’t have to speak to know what the other was thinking.  
It occurred to Glenn that they had technically gotten the baby they’d wanted, but it was the cost that tore him apart.


	9. I Ain't Gon' Never Stop Lovin' You, Bitch

They had at first set up at the house on the hill thinking that it would be a temporary, few days stop before moving somewhere else. But weeks passed by, and then it started to get cold, and then it was November. By now, it was clear that they were probably going to spend the winter here.  
Tara’d gone to collect a few materials from the church before it was to get too cold for them to be outside for that long. Whatever food she could hunt or find, things that’d been left behind in the attack. While she wasn’t particularly successful in the former, only finding a few berries and wasting bullets on a squirrel that she couldn’t even hit (she’d never been the best hunter to say the least).  
But, she had found something that was left behind. It was a little, tattered book, a diary, and upon further inspection, she found that it was Beth’s. So, she tucked it in her bag, and after a bit longer of her fruitless search for just about anything useful, she returned to the house on the hill and gave it to Maggie.  
Maggie was sitting at the desk in the office, which also doubled as Maggie, Glenn, and Judith’s bedroom (the house had only had one, and it didn’t have room for a crib so it went to Tara and Rosita.) She was watching Judith, but she looked absolutely exhausted, barely holding herself up. Judith had been sick with a cold for the past few days, and while they were all supposed to be taking shifts in watching her and taking care of her, Tara knew that Maggie hadn’t really slept the whole time.  
Tara held the book in her hands and, after indicating that she was in the room so she didn’t give Maggie a heart attack, she set it down in front of her. “I found this and I thought you might want it” she whispered. Maybe, if it could make Maggie feel just a little bit better, her search wouldn’t be considered empty handed. “It was pretty far from the church.”  
Maggie nodded in solemn understanding. She began flipping through the book, smiling at some times and looking about to cry at others. She closed the diary, looking somewhat surprised to find Tara still standing there.  
“Thank you,” she whispered, her voice cracking. She seemed to study Tara for a few seconds, before finally saying, “I never expected her to live this long. From the moment we left the farm, I kept thinking that each day, each fight, would be the one where I lost her.”  
She shook her head. “If she is alive somewhere, I hope she’s hardened. As much as I love the part of her that is always singing and talking about happiness and sunshine, I hope it’s gone. That’s the only way she’s going to make it.”  
Tara leaned against the desk, glancing down at the little book she’d found and sighing. “Everyone has to at some point, I guess, but that doesn’t mean she has to completely change. I mean, I’m still me.” That was saying a lot, because, to put it lightly, Tara’s a dumbass.  
“Yeah,” she nodded, but she seemed doubtful, or maybe it was just the exhaustion. “It's funny,” she said in the way that insinuated that what she was referencing was very much not funny, “Because I don’t think I would have survived myself without her. Without that sweetness.  
“Not that long after this all started, right after Glenn and the rest of Rick’s group arrived at the farm, she tried to commit suicide. I yelled at her; I was so offended because all I could think was ‘I could never do that to her.’ Because if I didn’t have her when shit went down, when it was clear that the world was never gonna be the same, that I wouldn’t have done it. Without her, I have Glenn. Without Glenn...” she almost winced as she said this, making it clear that ‘without Glenn’ was something she would never dare even imagine.  
“Without Glenn, I have Judith, now. And even you and Rosita. But if all of you were gone, if I didn’t have a single person left to live for… let’s just say I wouldn’t be entirely enthusiastic in my running from walkers.”  
Judith began crying, and Maggie rushed over to grab and rock her in her arms, which seemed to calm the infant as quickly as her wails had begun. She continued, “I can’t raise her to be like that. If everyone she loves dies, if she has to wander alone for weeks or months before she finds something else, I need her to be able to do that. That’s the only way she’s gonna make it. She can’t just survive for me, or Glenn, or anyone else. She has to survive for herself.”  
“Well fuck.” Tara didn’t realize that she had even spoken. She was so caught up in what Maggie had said that she just uttered the first bullshit that came to mind. When it did hit her, her eyes widened. “Shit, did I say that out loud— I’m sorry. But yeah… we’ll all make sure she’s surviving for herself.”  
Everything she’d said kicked Tara in the balls much harder than she’d expected. About losing them all, about giving up if it happened. It only made her realize how much she needed the four of them. Before Glenn found her at the prison, she wanted to give up, was /going/ to give up, but he saved her just as much as he claimed she saved him.  
Now, Tara had friends, a girlfriend, people to survive for. She hadn’t known them nearly as long as Maggie and Glenn knew each other, but she could say without a doubt that she’d die without them. Tara just couldn’t imagine how Maggie was feeling. The part about Beth, maybe to an extent, but as for everything else she’d mentioned? Never.  
Maggie nodded, still rocking Judith back and forth. “It’s tough, because I want her to live. That’s all I want, for her to love and be happy and find something good. But I need her to survive. And that will always come first.”

Rosita and Tara were actually going to be able to spend the night together for the first time in days. With night shifts and watching Judith, they just hadn’t gotten the chance, and it felt like such a relief to sit down on the soft bed and start taking her braids out. She felt a bit guilty; Glenn and Maggie had seemed to have taken more than their share of watching the sick baby, but they insisted, and Rosita didn’t really have the heart, or the strength, to refuse.  
She started humming something that she couldn’t really remember the name of to herself, eventually singing it softly. It reminded her of old couples and warm kitchens, and she welcomed the comfort.  
She felt Tara’s fingers brush the back of her neck and stopped, somewhat embarrassed of being caught off guard.  
“Your voice is beautiful,” Tara giggled, although frowning when she noticed Rosita’s song had come to an end. “Don’t stop!”  
Rosita laughed and turned around, somewhat grudgingly continuing the song. The next thing she knew, Tara had grabbed her, pulled her up from the bed, and began swaying them around in circles.  
“What are you doing?!” she squealed.  
“Dancing!” Tara laughed, releasing one of her hands to twirl Rosita around.  
Rosita gave in despite herself, laughing as she wrapped her arms around Tara’s neck. She tried to keep singing, but with her laughter and pauses to catch her breath the effort was altogether unsuccessful. “We’re dancing like we’re in 1950.”  
Tara’s laughter only grew louder, regardless of the fact that there was a sleeping baby only two doors down. “Well thank god we’re not! I don’t wanna get hate crimed!”  
Rosita rolled her eyes. “Of course, you of all people have discovered the benefit of living at the end of the world instead of in 1950. ‘No hate crimes.’” She rested her chin on Tara’s shoulder. “In moments like this I almost forget. When we’re laughing, or talking about stupid things that don’t matter. It’s like the rest of the world falls away, and the only thing left is you.”  
With a small smile and a kiss to her cheek, Tara wrapped her arms around Rosita’s waist. “I wish it could always just be like this. Instead of running, or being afraid that the hammer’s finally gonna drop. I guess it’s still kinda like 1950 in a way though.” Even then, the smile remained on her face. “Except now, people don’t care that you’re gay. They just want to take whatever shit you have.”  
Rosita nodded. “Our life expectancies have been cut to a few months by this thing. Everyone says how they expect each day to be their last, and I do that too, but honestly, if all this hadn’t happened, I probably wouldn’t have been alive this long.”  
“What, like the apocalypse…?”  
Rosita murmured in agreement.  
Tara paused, as if she was afraid to even ask. Or, more so know the answer. “What?”  
Rosita sighed, regretting bringing this up at all. Why did she even feel like she should say it? “Tara, what do you think my job was?”  
“I dunno… were you like, a firefighter? And Abraham said something about you being in the military or something at some point I think.”  
“I was in the national guard for a few years, but I got discharged.” She shook her head. “I did something that I wasn’t supposed to because I thought it was right and the person in charge thought it was wrong. They sent me home, and I had nothing left. No degree; I entered right after I turned eighteen. Working minimum wage at a Starbucks just wasn’t cutting it. So I started…” She paused, looking into Tara’s eyes for approval, before continuing. “I started selling myself.”  
It came out all once, and Rosita wasn’t even sure if she had said a discernible sentence, but she went on. “It got bad, and I was probably going to get killed. People didn’t like me, they thought that I thought I was better than them and it just… the fact that the apocalypse even happened is terrible, and I would destroy all of it if I could. But in a way, I guess it kind of saved me.”  
For a moment, Tara didn’t say anything. Rosita could tell she was deep in thought, and for a moment, she thought she made a mistake telling her any of it. But then she pulled her close, and she whispered “I love you” in Rosita’s ear.  
“You don’t have to say it back” Tara quickly added afterwards. “I just wanted you to know. You deserve to.”  
Rosita stared at her, completely taken aback and at a loss for words. And thoughts. And anything but the girl standing in front of her. She opened her mouth, but was interrupted by a screeching cry from Judith in the next room. She shook her head as if she could shake everything she was feeling away. “We should probably be a little quieter. I don’t want to do anything that will put Maggie and Glenn in any more misery.”  
With that, she kissed Tara’s cheek before twisting out of her grasp, and continued getting ready for bed. As she pulled her stiff jeans off, she heard Tara humming the tune she had been singing, and smiled to herself.  
Tara fell asleep almost instantly after crawling under the blanket, but Rosita sat there for a few minutes, watching her chest rise and fall and her long eyelashes brush her cheeks. “I love you too,” she whispered.

**Author's Note:**

> Hey, thanks for reading! There are two of us sharing this account and co-writing this book currently, so if the writing style seems to switch a bit here and there, that's why. I, Phoebe, am doing the writing and dialogue for Glenn and Tara, and Violet is doing everything for Maggie and Rosita. Hope you're enjoying this little quarantine project we have going so far :)


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